


Spectacular Failure

by lady_needless_litany



Category: Robert Langdon Series - Dan Brown
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: Even a genius like Edmond Kirsch has his doubts.





	Spectacular Failure

Kirsch fidgeted, peering out the window as he waited for the traffic light to change to green. In the dimming twilight, the more neon hues of the city were beginning to emerge, casting dappled shadows across his face as he drove.

His faithful Tesla was back in Barcelona, so tonight's carriage was a hired Toyota hybrid. Not the smooth, silent drive he was used to, but more than serviceable. It wasn't far from his hotel to the museum, but the city was locked in rush-hour traffic. It seemed that Bilbao, like any developed, twentieth century metropolis, wasn’t immune to the curse of congestion. While it wasn't as bad as London or Bangkok or many of the places Kirsch had visited over the years, it was still painfully slow. At least it was moving, he supposed. When that notion failed to placate his restless brain, he promised himself that the next thing he’d invest in would be a proper flying car.

That wasn’t enough, though. In the absence of anything to focus on, his mind wandered, as it inevitably did, to his own mortality. Instinctually, he touched the box inside his jacket pocket; it was small and made of metal, the weight of it simultaneously comforting and disconcerting. He visualized its contents: a small amount of white powder, potent enough to end his life almost instantaneously. Knowing as he did the random nature of the universe, it was reassuring to know that he had that small power.  
  
But those thoughts were too morbid for today, he told himself. His attitude to death was matter-of-fact, but today was about the future, in all of its terrifying glory. It was also pandering to his own desire for drama, but he figured that he was allowed to indulge a few whims here and there — he was dying, after all.   
  
To clear his mind, he spoke aloud to Winston. "Call Ambra Vidal."   
  
Winston obliged, and she picked up almost immediately. "Edmond?"   
  
"Ambra," he said, injecting a note of false cheer into his voice. In front of him, the light finally changed and he was able to move forward. "How's it going?"   
  
"We're expecting the first guests any minute now," she replied, her nerves audible.

He understood her apprehension. Indeed, though he would’ve like to pretend he shared only a fraction of it, truthfully his own doubts were sneaking in. "Don't worry about it. It's going to be fine."  
  
"Look... can I be honest with you?” she asked.

Unseen to her, he tilted his head inquisitively. “Of course.”

She took a breath. “I have _absolute_ faith in you. But there are so many ways that this could go wrong. Nothing of this complexity has been done before, at least to my knowledge. And broadcasting it all live? It's insanity."   
  
He smiled to himself. "So you've told me, Ambra, so you've told me."   
  
"You've clearly not listened." Ambra’s words were more friendly, almost a playful jibe, than accusatory.   
  
“Where's the fun in that?” he countered lightly. He thought that he still detected a touch of tension in her voice; in an attempt to steer her away from it, he asked the first inane question that occurred to him. “Anyway, how are you? Besides all of that?”   
  
"Curious,” she admitted. “I'm dying to know what this is all about."   
  
The sea of vehicles had forced Kirsch to a standstill. Again. "Well, you've got a front row seat."   
  
She laughed, although her underlying tension was still present. "Just make sure it's worth it."   
  
"Trust me, it will be," he reassured her. "I'm on my way, but you know what traffic can be like in this city. I'll be with you as soon as I can."   
  
Once again, her voice coloured with worry. "For the love of God, Edmond, don't be late."   
  
"I'll try," he promised.   
  
"Good,” she replied. Distantly, Kirsch heard someone calling to her. She replied hastily, in Spanish, before returning to their call, now business-like. “I have to go. The first guests are here."   
  
"I won't hold you up any longer, then," he said. And then, for a reason that he can’t quite discern, something within him grows frantic. Perhaps he’d simply absorbed some of her nerves. Perhaps their intense collaboration and what Kirsch felt was the beginnings of a true intellectual partnership, had made him more aware of her emotions. It didn’t really matter; it was just crucial to him that she _understood_ . "But, Ambra? You're right. What we're doing tonight is impossible in the eyes of a sane person. Everything about it is revolutionary."   
  
"Trust me, I'm aware of that."   
  
The lights went green and he pulled away. "Yeah. But just think of how incredible it's going to be when we pull it off. It's going to be spectacular. Humanity's going to remember this."   
  
"It's either going to be a spectacular success or a spectacular failure."   
  
"I couldn't have said it better myself. But you should go — I'll see you soon."

He could practically feel her roll her eyes. “I know! Just get here in time!”  
  
His phone emitted a flat tone as the call disconnected.   
  
Yet again, the traffic ground to a halt and he stopped at another junction. A sigh, faintly restrained.

Without a second voice to fill the silence, Kirsch had always been prone to overthinking. On evenings like this, when so much was at stake, the habit was multiplied exponentially.

He knew that he was a confident man — he hoped he'd not slipped into arrogance without noticing — but he couldn't deny that his thoughts were aflutter. They darted from one subject to another in a vain attempt to keep the possibility of failure at bay. A spectacular failure, as Ambra had said, was infinitely preferable to Kirsch's private fear: mediocrity. That was why he'd devoted so much time and effort to the announcement; he simply couldn't bear the thought of his discovery entering into the world quietly. The discovery itself, of course, was mind-bending: but would people understand that?  
  
Of course they would. It was just a question of getting himself to realise that.

**Author's Note:**

> I initially drafted this about a year ago, when I first read _Origins_... admittedly, not my best work.


End file.
